Page 26 of Trip

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Trip

Meri’s a little shit of a big sister. A pretty damn good one, but she was presumptuous. Outfitting JJ for riding.

He was torn between buying his sister a new car for what she’d done or smacking her in the back of the head for being so damn smug about it. She bought those gifts just assuming her little run at matchmaking would work. It did, but that was beside the point.

“You look damn sexy, JJ. Even sexier if you were in bed with nothing but that and those damn boots on. Maybe that fine ass leather-looking underwear skirt thing you had on the other night. Damn woman, my dick’s aching just talking about it.” In his imagination, his property patch was on the back of it, but he kept that to himself.

After dropping a passionate kiss on his lips, she plopped down on the couch. “Now you.”

Trip reached for his red-wrapped gift again and finished ripping off the paper. He’d gotten so distracted by JJ opening hers he’d abandoned his.

It was light for a gift. Maybe she’d gotten him the typical gift card to the riding shop. He always found something to buy with it.

On top of red tissue paper sat a note.

Cristofer, if you’re reading this, that means I’m not there yet, which is a good thing. In this box, you’ll find the same thing I get you every year and nothing else. Well, nothing else in the box, anyway. Your gift has already been delivered; you just don’t know it. No smart-ass, it’s not the beautiful woman sitting there with you tonight, although you’re welcome. It’s my love, which everyone knows is the best gift of all, but for argument’s sake, it’s hanging on the lowest part of your bike, which, according to Pound, and I quote, I know where the fuck it goes.

Thanks for sharing DNA with me. Merry CRIStmas!

Smooches Queen Meri

JJ snatched the note out of his hand while he looked below the tissue paper for his gift card. Sure enough, there it sat.

“What’s hanging on your bike?”

Trip smiled. He knew there must’ve been an angel looking out for him on the ride to Reno. “Come, I’ll show you.”

Trip grabbed the small Santa biker–wrapped package in one hand as he stood and snatched her hand with the other. They stepped onto the porch and his chest froze instantly. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

At least JJ was dressed enough for a quick trip to the carport thanks to those sexy boots Meri got her. Yep, she is definitely getting a car for Christmas.

Trip pointed to the silver bell hanging under the frame of his bike. JJ bent low for a better look, and he couldn’t resist rubbing his body against her ass. She yelped and stood, turning in his arms.

“It’s cute. It has your patch on it.”

“Cute? Woman, it’s not supp…” His words died as hers sunk in. Trip moved around JJ and squatted down. “Shit.” He breathed as he examined the bell in the limited light. It had the Phantoms insignia on it.

It must’ve cost a fortune to get that done. It looked hand carved, too. Trip knuckled away the small tear that escaped him as he stood. Meri accepted him, always had. When he wanted to be a soldier, she bought so much Go Army stuff it looked like GI Joe threw up camo on their lives. When he decided, or it was decided for him, to leave that brotherhood, Meri welcomed him home with open arms.

She didn’t judge him for not wanting to go to college and get a nine-to-five job. And she never showed disappointment when he joined what, to her at the time, seemed like a gang.

Not once in his entire life had she ever been ashamed of him. She accepted him in a way only his brothers ever had, and he couldn’t even be bothered to spend Christmases with her.

Trip felt like the worst brother known to man. He was standing there next to his protected bike with the woman he loved because of her. That’s when he felt the weight of the small box in his hand. He didn’t trust his voice just yet, so he simply held it out to JJ, waiting for her to take it.

It didn’t take long before JJ snatched it. “Gimme.”

“You really have no self-control with presents.”

“Nope.” One syllable spoken while she ripped into the paper.

Trip leaned against his seat. It seemed more them than dropping to his knee like he did the first time. He watched as the paper and box both fluttered to the snow-covered concrete. When she gasped and snapped her gaze from the cheap ass gold ring in her hand to him and back again, he seized her hips and pulled her between his thighs.

“What do you say, Jessika Joan McCray, promise to be my girl forever…again?” He plagiarized himself from years ago when he gave her that same promise ring the first time.

She tried to slip it on her finger, but it wouldn’t go past the first knuckle. “It doesn’t fit.” She was tearing up. Trip slid it on her pinkie instead.

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